Constant Companion
by TheFutureDoctor
Summary: It's the TARDIS's job to take care of its Doctor, but having a human around had definitely helped.


It was quiet.  
The TARDIS hummed calmly. The lights were dimmed in the big, round room, and the engine glowed softly as night fell in the Nevada desert.

Rose was gone.  
Her toothbrush still sat next to the bathroom sink. Her jacket was still draped over one of the golden branches that climbed up the wall of the closet.  
The TARDIS felt these things still there, weighed them, shifted them with microscopic fingers, nostalgic.  
It was its job to take care of the Doctor. ITS job. But there were some things it couldn't help with, things that Rose, especially, had helped with in the past, when the Daleks would creep into the Doctor's dreams and replay the horrors of war. She would shake him awake, put a cool hand to his face, ask what it was, though he'd never answer.  
The TARDIS had no hands to shake him or smooth his hair away from his face. The songs it sang, many times, just made the nightmares worse.

There had to be something it could do, though.  
There was always something.

The TARDIS thought of the hologram system, and the machine whirred, coming online. The images in the core database whirled about in the TARDIS's mind. Every quirk, every shift in hair color, every slur of speech was recorded from every companion the Doctor had ever brought aboard. Sarah Jane stood side by side with Barbara and Ian. Grace, Mickey, and Ace waited idly by Susan and Rose.

It was funny, thought the TARDIS. All the precious people it had ever housed, and never once had it met any family of the Doctor's, apart from Susan. Who better to soothe a man's nightmares than his own mother or father? But there was no record of them in the database. And Susan— the Doctor had suspected, but the TARDIS knew— was dead. Maybe it was best not to bring her back.  
Besides, thought the TARDIS, Rose was the only one who ever came so close to him, the one he hurt for the most. At least, they knew that she was alive, without a doubt.  
The lights on the bridge brightened a bit. In one column, a human form appeared. It slimmed at the waist and shoulders, and a tumble of blonde hair appeared on the head. Holo-Rose sighed at the sight of the TARDIS, giving a small smile.

The core seemed to be functioning correctly.

From inside her head, the TARDIS directed her movement: step forward, look around. The beam of light followed, as Holo-Rose walked quietly down the hall beneath the stairs. Another light took up the image and handed it the next and to the next, keeping the hologram continuous.

Third door on the left.  
TARDIS blue.  
Push to open.

The TARDIS opened the door, and Holo-Rose stepped through, glowing. Lights inside the room took up the image, dimmer and golden.  
The Doctor lay fully dressed face-down on his bed, Converse dangling off the edge. He was drenched in sweat, and his fingers clawed into the mattress near his head. His breath and heartbeats were fast and ragged.  
The TARDIS moved Holo-Rose to the bedside. She sat gently down, next to the Doctor's arm, and reached a glowing hand to touch his face, only for it to fall through his head.  
She was only an image.  
A pained expression crossed Holo-Rose's features as the TARDIS's heart shook with frustration.

But there had to be something.  
There was always something.

An air vent in the ceiling of the room had been closed for nearly a decade. The TARDIS opened it, and a cool gust blew, just for a second, softly rustling the Doctor's hair.  
"Doctor," Holo-Rose whispered. Her hand passed over his cheek, and another gust blew.  
"Doctor, wake up."  
The Doctor shivered, gripping the sheet beneath him until his knuckles were white.  
There was a stronger gust, and the TARDIS shook, moving everything inside.  
"Doctor."  
His eyes snapped open, red and wet. In the dim light, he stared at Holo-Rose, half awake. Her scent hung in the air between them.  
"It's okay," she whispered.  
She smoothed his hair back, the air moving over him.  
"You're going to be alright."  
The Doctor's eyes teetered shut again, sending him back into dreams.  
But of apple grass.  
And chips.  
Holo-Rose faded, smiling softly, and the vent in the ceiling closed.  
The TARDIS made sure the scent was gone by morning.


End file.
